


Whumptober 2019

by fluffier432



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Bombing, Bombs, Day 1: Shaky hands, Day 2: Explosion, Drug Use, Explosion, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hero Complex, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Overstimulation, Shaky Hands, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019, debris, dust - Freeform, peter parker has a hero complex, shaking, whumptober day 1, whumptober day 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 17:32:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20855582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffier432/pseuds/fluffier432
Summary: Whumptober 2019! This will include multiple fandoms and relationships. I hope to post everyday in October and get every prompt on the list finished!





	1. Shaky Hands - Klaus (Umbrella Academy)

**“For ** the last time, I can’t help you,” Klaus insisted for the umpteenth time. Now sober for the long run, Klaus was seeing more ghosts than ever. They came to him, the only person who could see and hear them, and  _ beg _ to be brought back to life. It was getting tiresome.

The newest spirit, a young lady who appeared to have been electrocuted to death in prison (if the hair sticking straight up from her head and her prison outfit were anything to base an assumption on), hadn’t quite caught on yet. So far, she had screamed, kicked, and even spat at Klaus, who tried not to lose his temper...again. He thought that was feat in and of itself, especially considering all she said was “Help” in a shriek that made his head pound.

“At least you can actually hold a conversation.” Turning to Ben, Klaus gave his best effort at ignoring the ghost. Maybe she would get the hint and quiet down like the others.

“Isn’t crying for help your favorite pastime?”

“Fuck you, Ben.”

Ben’s mouth curled into a smirk, presenting his pride at pissing off Klaus when he was already in a bad mood. “Ouch. Your words hurt, bro.”

Rolling his eyes at his late sibling, Klaus took a seat at the dining room table. There was already a war commander sitting there with holes riddling his uniform, but he paid no mind to him. Grace’s humming floated sweetly from the kitchen. Klaus realised it was quiet, no ghost screaming at him anymore.

A beat. Grace set down a plate of sausages and eggs in front of Klaus, patting him on the shoulder and telling him to use his fork this time.

Another beat. Klaus forgoed his mother’s suggestion and picked up a sausage with his fingers.

The light shifted next to him, making him glance over his shoulder. A ghost manifested itself right behind Grace, on his knees, drenched and dripping spirit droplets of water on the pristine floor. This one had clearly drowned, coughing and spitting up liquid that splashed on the ground and then vanished. The ghost finally stood, noticing Klaus staring at him.

“Bring me back,” he demanded in a raspy voice, like the salt water had rubbed his throat raw as it filled his lungs. “Bring me back. Bring me back!”

“Bring me back, too,” echoed Sparky-the-jailbird. “Bring us all back.”

“Bring us back! Bring us back!”

The mantra, now chorused by every ghost in the house (excluding a certain octopus), served to reanimate the headache that Klaus was eternally plagued with. Just like before, he tried to turn his back to the spirits, but they surrounded him.

“It’s okay, Klaus. They’re only ghosts.” Ben attempted the only form of comfort he could give, but it did little to ease the tension in Klaus’ body. He didn’t realize he was shaking until Grace came back and placed her own, perfect hands over his trembling ones.

“Something wrong?” she questioned innocently, seemingly oblivious to Klaus’ power.

“ _ Bring us back! Bring us back! _ ”

“No, nothing.”

“ _ Bring us back! _ ”

His hands shook as he pulled away from Grace, scraping his chair against the floor loudly in his haste. They didn’t stop shaking until his fingers curled around an orange bottle, broke the cap off, and lifted the pills to his lips.


	2. Explosion - Peter (MCU)

** _Tick_ ** _ , tick, tick-- _

“Pete, get out of there!”

“Mr. Stark, there could be someone in here, I have to make sure!”

_ Tick, tick, tick-- _

“There isn’t enough time, kid, get out!”

_ Tick, tick, tick-- _

“I can’t just leave them here--!”

_ Tick-- _

“You have to!”

_ Tick-- _

“I  _ can’t _ \--!”

There wasn’t another moment before Tony was deafened by the sound of the apartment exploding, both in real life and over his comms. In the next instant, dust filled his lungs, making him cough.

“Peter!” Tony shouted desperately into his comms once he got his breath back, immediately moving to the centre of the rubble and hauling aside debris, searching, searching…

He kept calling out to Peter, hoping beyond hope he would hear something. Even a whisper, a cry of pain,  _ anything _ would do. As long as it came from Peter. But there was nothing. With every piece of building Tony shoved away, his hope diminished a little more, until he was sure he would never find him.

“ _ Peter! _ ”

Heaving one of the biggest chunks of debris yet, Tony cried out when he caught sight of a red hand. Not missing a beat, Tony catapulted what covered the rest of the kid to the side.

And there he was. Still and limp, but breathing. Suit littered with scratches and tears, but otherwise intact. Bleeding from a head wound, but  _ alive. _

Relief washed over Tony’s whole body, making him shake and tears form in his eyes. He knelt to examine the kid more closely, then scooped him up in his arms when he deemed it safe.

“You’re gonna be alright, kid,” he whispered, just loud enough for him and Peter to hear.


End file.
